


Waltz

by write_away



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Brotp, Dancing, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Oneshot, a lot of awkward Alec, a tinge of malec, relatively fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_away/pseuds/write_away
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you had to dance to be a proper Alicante Shadowhunter, Alec was done with the business. He’d become a mundane if that’s what it took.</p><p>By the time he was fifteen, he knew more ballroom dances than he cared to share. Though it had been the only subject in which he exceeded Jace in the beginning, the blond boy quickly caught up and in four years could dance better than even Isabelle.</p><p>Izzy was the only one who truly enjoyed the lessons. Jace tolerated them and Alec endured them, his jaw clenched and his toes throbbing every time he stepped the wrong way and Isabelle crushed his foot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Mortal Instruments - I just love Alec Lightwood a lot. Enjoy!

Despite living in the New York Institute for a majority of his life, Alec received a very traditional Shadowhunter education.  He began reading at age three before they even left Alicante. By the time he officially began lessons with Hodge at age five, he could add, subtract, and identify at least twenty kinds of demons in a picture book from his father’s youth.

Proper etiquette was enforced all through his childhood. His mother was strict about respect, table manners, and proper English. What she liked best was when it was all combined. As Alec was expected to be well behaved from birth, especially around adults, he sat with a stiff back, held his utensils as perfectly as small hands could manage, and asked his parents to pass the mashed potatoes with “please” and “thank you” – after saying “excuse me.”

Alec supposed that if the Lightwoods were to move back to Idris, he’d be able to fit in fine with the other Shadowhunters his age. He acted no different from them and his training was the same, if not superior. He was well versed in Alicante culture in all ways. He knew the city inside out, knew every type of weapon, and even learned the complex, somewhat aristocratic government system of the Nephilim.

By the time Isabelle was old enough for these lessons, the Lightwoods allowed a lot more to slide. To Alec’s surprise, and even a bit of envy, Isabelle was permitted to be loud and disrupt his father while he was working. Robert even swung her in the air and laughed when she scribbled all over his papers. She demanded and banged loudly on the dining room table. She showed a definite interest in demon hunting, but was allowed to learn about the actual fight instead of the theory that Alec had been forced to sit through before even brought near a training room.

Alec sometimes hated being the eldest.

By the time he was eight, he was resigned to this harsh curriculum while the family princess got to breeze by. Adding that to his mother’s pregnancy – which had led to a discussion he was certainly scarred by – he knew that he’d have to continue to set this example for the rest of his life. After all, he couldn’t let the baby grow up acting like _Izzy_.

Sometimes he wished she was a little more like the Alicante Shadowhunters. They didn’t make visits often, but he knew that she was only living up to what everyone expected from Institute kids. Institute kids, he knew from one rare visit to Idris where he overheard some boys whispering about him, were dumb. They weren’t in Alicante because their parents were bad Shadowhunters. They obviously were bad Shadowhunters, too, because they didn’t go to the Shadowhunter school in the city. They were _contaminated_ , because they lived near Downworlders. They were rude and just not proper Nephilim.

He didn’t want his sister to end up like that, but no one pressed it and Isabelle remained the way she was – an Institute kid.

\-------

It was a normal day in the New York Institute. Alec and Isabelle were in their little classroom having lessons with Hodge and their parents were doing some sort of paper work that Alec never understood.

Alec bit his tongue as he divided the decimals. He didn’t like math, but at least it wasn’t history. That bored him to death, especially because all Hodge taught him was _American_ history. Once he tried to complain and remind everyone that he wasn’t technically American since he was he was born in Idris, but his mother sent him a stern glare and he quieted. Now he took his history lessons in silent misery.

Beside him, Hodge was working Isabelle through the alphabet. They had attempted to teach her to read when she was young, like Alec, but the girl simply wouldn’t stay put for more than twenty seconds. After a few attempts, they gave up and resumed at the typical mundane age.

“What’s this, Izzy?” Hodge prompted and held up a flashcard.

Isabelle kicked the desk a few times and cocked her head to the side. Alec flinched every time her shoe hit the metal, but tried to ignore them. He only had three more problems on this worksheet and then he could move on to reading. He was in the middle of a really good chapter book that his dad had liked when he was little. He thought that maybe if he finished it soon, they’d be able to talk about it during dinner.

“Um. A! Like Alexander?”

“Good job, Izzy,” Hodge praised.

“Isabelle, would you please call me Alec?” he requested quietly as his pencil tip broke and scattered lead bits all over his paper. In annoyance, Alec shook them away and reached into his pencil case for another.

“I like Alexander,” she said while copying the letter into her notebook several times in messy handwriting. “And _you_ always call me Isabelle.”

“That’s your name.” Alec was trying his hardest to keep his tone polite, but ever since Isabelle had learned to talk, he was discovering exactly why people on television were always so mean to their siblings. They could be a pain.

“And Alexander is yours. What’s the next letter, Hodge?”

Hodge held up another card. “This one is a bit difficult. It’s lowercase.”

“Um… D?” Isabelle guessed.

“Good job. Now write that out a few times. Alec, are you finished with your math?” Hodge peered towards Alec’s desk curiously.

“Almost,” he said as he moved on to the last problem. “And Isabelle, Mom and Dad call you by your full name. They call me Alec, so would you please call me that?”

Isabelle threw down her pencil, crossed her arms, and pouted. “I like calling you Alexander! They call you that when you get in trouble!”

“I don’t –”

“Yes, you do! Daddy yelled at you because you knocked over all his coffee the other day when we were playing tag!”

“You pushed me!”                         

“Alec, please stop disrupting your sister’s lesson,” Hodge said firmly as if this entire argument was his fault. If Isabelle just called him Alec like he asked, none of it would even be a problem. He hated being called Alexander. It made him feel like he was being reprimanded. “Now apologize.”

Alec gripped his pencil so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I’m sorry, Isabelle.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Isabelle said grudgingly after a short pause. “Hodge, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yes, but be quick,” Hodge requested. “Your parents want us to begin an extra lesson. It’s something many children your age do in Alicante.”

Alec was almost too occupied by the lack of Hodge’s lecture on the proper use of “can” to register what his tutor had just said.

“Alicante is stuffy and boring,” Isabelle complained, already halfway out the door. She was doing the bathroom dance. “Like Alexander sometimes.”

She was gone before Alec could even open his mouth.

Alec slammed his pencil onto the desk and slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms. “I don’t wanna have lessons with her!” he complained.

“Alec,” Hodge said warningly.

Alec took a deep breath, counted to five, and sat up straight. “I don’t like having lessons with Isabelle,” he said quietly. “She’s always mean to me. And you and Mom and Dad don’t make her learn like you make me.”

Hodge sighed and got up. He pulled his chair over to Alec’s desk and sat down again with a serious expression. “Alec, you’re very young. I don’t know if you’ll be able to understand this, but I’m going to try to explain it simply. Try to follow along, all right?”

Alec nodded and waited for Hodge to begin speaking. He seemed to have difficulty forming words.

“When we all first moved here to the Institute, you had already begun your education. Your parents… they missed home very much. They still do. We all do, I suppose. Every parent wants their child to be raised right, and most parents believe the right way is the way they were raised. They wanted you to learn the same things they did, in the same way. Do you understand that?”

Alec looked at his feet that were swinging only a few inches off the ground. “I guess. But how come Isabelle doesn’t have to?”

“First of all, your sister is just a little bit uncontrollable,” Hodge said and laughed. “I think the day we make her do anything against her will is the day I get to leave this place.”

Alec frowned, remembering how he overheard Hodge discussing a curse one night with his parents. He had listened for a long time, but still didn’t know too much about it. _Plus_ , he got in a lot of trouble for eavesdropping. But the way it sounded, Hodge was never going to leave. He wasn’t sure if that was good or not. He liked his tutor most of the time and what if he left and Hodge wasn’t allowed to come see him? But at least it meant that he was never going to go before Alec.

“Second of all, people change as they get older. Sometimes they realize there are other, new ways of doing things. Your parents hadn’t quite moved out of the Alicante mind frame when you began your education, Alec. Now they’ve realized that perhaps they were being too strict with you.” Hodge said this gently, but Alec still wouldn’t look up. “They haven’t yet stopped, because they feel it would be detrimental to your well being, almost too jarring. Instead, they are slowly giving you more freedom. Be patient. And you still have to set a good example. Isabelle really looks up to you. You’re her big brother and she loves you, no matter how she treats you.”

Alec glanced up for just a few seconds. “What does detrimental mean?” Hodge raised his eyebrows and Alec rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. I’ll get the dictionary later.”

“Good boy,” Hodge said and ruffled his hair as he stood. Alec left it, not really caring, and picked at a hole forming on the elbow of his sweater. His mother always complained that he had to let her know before they got too big and they threw them out, but this was Alec’s favorite sweater. He knew that she’d just throw it out now instead of fixing it.

“Hodge?”

“Yes, Alec?”

“What are we learning like Alicante kids?”

Hodge smiled faintly. “Dancing. Balls are common in Alicante. You ought to know how. Plus, Isabelle has shown an interest in it ever since you all went to see the Nutcracker.”

Alec’s head shot up and he stared at Hodge with more intensity than ever before. “Dancing?” he asked in disbelief. The ballet they had attended had literally bored him to sleep. He couldn’t remember how many times Isabelle had shaken him awake, only for him to drift off moments later.

A squeal sounded from the door. “Dance lessons? I get to learn how to dance?” Isabelle was back from the bathroom and actually leaped into the room. “What kind of dance? Oh, dancers are so pretty, I love dancing! Alexander, let’s dance!” She didn’t waste time in climbing under his desk and tugging his feet until he fell out of his chair. She giggled as he tried to disentangle himself.

“Isabelle, that hurt,” he told her and tried to push her away without maiming her in return. She wrapped her arms around him almost immediately, stopping him from leaving the mini, cramped desk shelter she had forced him into.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to say mean things before.”

Hodge smiled and Alec hugged Isabelle back, ignoring the fact that the man was right. Again. “It’s okay,” he said. “Can we get up now?”

“No.” Isabelle squeezed him tighter and Alec fixed her hair that was now sticking up in several places. He tucked it behind her ear and laughed.

“We need to get up if you want to dance.”

Isabelle detached herself immediately and bolted towards Hodge. “Oh! What are we going to learn, what are we going to learn? Alexander, let’s dance, you can be my partner, oh! It’ll be like when Mommy and Daddy dance in the parlor when they think we’re asleep!” She wrinkled her nose. “But we’re not in love. We’re just gonna be practice for each other until Prince Charming comes for me and you find your princess. Oh, it’s going to be so much fun!”

Isabelle skipped out of the room without another word and Alec had to take a few deep breaths. He had the distinct feeling that dance lessons were going to be the worst part of his day.

 

\-------

If you had to dance to be a proper Alicante Shadowhunter, Alec was done with the business. He’d become a mundane if that’s what it took.

By the time he was fifteen, he knew more ballroom dances than he cared to share. Though it had been the only subject in which he exceeded Jace in the beginning, the blond boy quickly caught up and in four years could dance better than even Isabelle.

Izzy was the only one who truly enjoyed the lessons. Jace tolerated them and Alec endured them, his jaw clenched and his toes throbbing every time he stepped the wrong way and Isabelle crushed his foot.

Dance lessons were every other day after lunch in the parlor, where an old record player sat in the corner. Sometimes, when they weren’t too busy, his parents came to watch, and Max often crawled in. He liked to play with the records. However, now that he was six, he was in lessons of his own or on trips to Alicante with their parents. He was the only child not tutored by Hodge and Alec felt it was somewhat unfair that he got to spend so much time with Mom and Dad.

Of course, it’s not like he was jealous of a six year old or anything.

The boys always took turns having Isabelle as a dance partner. She didn’t mind at all – it just gave her more opportunities to show off.

The one day she didn’t dance was one of the most awkward moments of Alec’s teenaged life.

They were sitting on the couch, waiting for Hodge to return from the library, when Alec suddenly became a human pillow. Jace had already been half sleeping on his shoulder with his hair stuck to a sweaty forehead from training. Alec had forced the tingles going through his body at Jace’s touch to go away, leave him alone, and was trying to ignore the boy.

 _He’s your friend,_ he thought firmly. _He’s your foster brother. He’s your **parabatai.** You can’t break the Law, Alec. He’s your parabatai. The Law is hard, but it is the Law. You can’t break the Law. If you break the Law…_ He wouldn’t even let himself follow that stream of thought. He couldn’t imagine what they would do to him if anybody ever found out there was something between him and his parabatai, a strictly forbidden relationship, even if they weren’t both boys.

Alec had to scoff internally at _that_. What relationship? This was purely one sided as far as he could tell. He was safe from repercussions of the Law, no matter what, because Jace would never find out and nothing would ever happen.

The guilty part of him wished that wasn’t true.

Alec knew something was wrong when Isabelle sighed loudly and laid her head in his lap.

“Yes?” he said hesitantly and brushed her hair out of her face so he could see her.

Isabelle sighed again and wrapped her right arm around the lower half of her stomach. “I have cramps,” she announced.

Alec shifted uncomfortably until Jace punched him in the side. “Stop moving,” he mumbled. “You’re comfy.”

“Did you just hear her?” he hissed.

Jace’s eyes fluttered open. “She has cramps. It’s been confirmed. She’s a woman and she’s PMSing. Please tell me you paid attention during our health lessons. I’d rather not explain how babies are made.”

Alec felt his cheeks grow hot. “I know _that_ , but she’s _Isabelle!”_

Jace punched him again and adjusted his position. “Stop _moving_ ,” he complained. “And yeah, so? Izzy, haven’t you had your period already?”

“Uh huh,” Isabelle said and curled into a little ball. She pinched Alec’s knee. “And Jace is right, stop moving, Alec.”

Alec was almost afraid to breathe at risk of more physical abuse. “Do you really need to tell us, though?”

Isabelle opened one eye and examined Alec critically. “I can be more descriptive if you want,” she offered.

“No thanks.”

“No, really, I can,” Isabelle said. “Right now, there’s an egg in my uterus that’s going to start shedding and the blood is going to come out of my vagina in a few days. That’s why I have cramps and –”

“That’s enough, Isabelle!” Alec went as far as clapping his hands over his ears to stop her from continuing. “You’re _twelve._ You’re my baby sister. I don’t want to hear this.”

Isabelle shut her eyes again and smiled, satisfied. “Well then, don’t complain when I mention cramps.”

“Alec, it’s not a big deal,” Jace said, who sounded completely alert despite being moments away from passing out on Alec’s shoulder. “What, are you grossed out by girl parts or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really into them by the time you’re fifteen?”

Alec stiffened but tried to relax. “Shut up, Jace. Just go to sleep.”

He paid no attention to Alec. “I’m fourteen and I’m dying to get a girl.”

“I’m not you,” Alec muttered unnecessarily. That much was painfully obvious. They were almost literally night and day.

“All right, I found a song!” Hodge announced as he entered the room. “We’re going to waltz today. Jace, Isabelle, you two first.”

Jace lifted his head from Alec slowly and rubbed his eyes. “Two seconds, Hodge,” he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He stood and ran a hand through his hair, clearly waking himself up, then faced the couch with a gentlemanly stance. Both hands were behind his back, which he kept straight and proper. He smiled charmingly at Isabelle, who hadn’t moved an inch. It was a complete transformation from grumpy, sleepy Jace less than a minute before.

“May I have this dance, miss?” he asked and extended a hand towards her.

Isabelle opened her eyes, narrowed them, and frowned. “Hodge, my stomach hurts. I don’t want to.”

Hodge’s lips pressed into a concerned line. “Are you feeling all right? Do you want to go to bed?”

Isabelle shrugged. “I can stay here, I just don’t wanna dance. Please, Hodge?”

Hodge approached and put his hand on Isabelle’s forehead as if checking for a fever. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?”

She nodded. “I like the music.”

Hodge sighed. “Okay then. I’ll make you some tea after the boys finish their lesson. I might have something that will help.”

“Okay,” Isabelle responded and curled into herself even further.

“Does this mean that class is cancelled?” Alec asked hopefully. With Isabelle unable to dance, they had no partner. Which meant they couldn’t dance. _Yes!_ It was a blessing, even if he felt bad that Isabelle felt so crappy.

“No,” Hodge said and quickly dampened Alec’s lifted mood. “You and Jace can pair up for today. You can take turns leading. Jace, if you would go first.” Hodge turned on the record player and quiet strains of music drifted through the room.

Jace shifted his weight slightly so he faced Alec more fully. His hand still outstretched, he shrugged and said, “May I have this dance, sir?” as smoothly as he had spoken to Isabelle.

Alec’s heart was pounding almost painfully, but the expectant silence stretched, so he gently pushed Izzy off his lap and stood. “Fine,” he muttered and took Jace’s hand. He tried to pretend tingles weren’t going up his arm as Jace tugged him to the center of the rug.

“Fine?” Jace laughed. “You sound less than thrilled to be dancing with me, Alexander.”

“ _Don’t_ call me Alexander,” Alec said. He had rid Isabelle of the habit years before, but Jace liked to tease him. “And I’m not thrilled to be dancing at all, let alone with you.” It wasn’t a lie. Dancing with Jace was only sending his stomach into knots that he didn’t want, didn’t need, wished he could get rid of…

“That’s no way to charm someone,” Jace chided. “Or get a date.”

“Maybe I’m not looking for one,” Alec snapped, every instinct in his body telling him to run away before he embarrassed himself or revealed his secret.

“Oh right,” Jace said and placed his hand on Alec’s waist. “You still don’t like girls’ parts. Almost forgot.”

“ _Jace –”_

“I’m kidding, relax!” Jace grinned widely. “Come on, let’s dance before the song finishes.”

Alec sighed, but didn’t move. “I hate dancing.”

Jace rolled his eyes and grabbed Alec’s limp wrist. “This,” he said, “goes here.” He placed Alec’s hand on his shoulder for him before putting his own hand back in place. “You do know how to follow, right?”

Alec shrugged. “The opposite of lead.”

“Boys, are you ready?”

“No,” Alec mumbled.

“Yes,” Jace said loudly, intentionally grating on Alec’s nerves. “Let’s go.”

Hodge started tapping on the beat on the desk for them. “And… start. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…”

Following was awkward and more difficult than leading – and Alec found even remembering the basic steps hard. Jace held his waist tightly and Alec swore the other boy was laughing silently at his red face. They moved around the room at the steady pace. Hodge’s tapping was merely background noise, something they were long accustomed to.

“Shall we twirl?” Jace asked with a grin.

“What?” Alec asked incredulously. “Jace, I am not –”

Jace lifted his hand and Alec had no choice but to spin with a glare. “I hate you,” he decided when they resumed their positions.

Jace squeezed Alec’s hand, which instantly went clammy and sweaty. “Yeah, right,” he said in response. “You could never hate me.”

The worst part of it all was that Alec knew he was right.

\-------

It was beautiful, energetic, and loud.

Alec wasn’t sure if he was describing his boyfriend or the music they were dancing to.

Magnus was basically bouncing on the balls of his feet, unable to contain himself as other couples twirled around the stationary pair. Alec wasn’t sure how plausible his story was – an eight hundred year old warlock unable to waltz? But he claimed that the dance had never been particularly important before, and he usually just did whatever he pleased on the dance floor.

“What makes it important _now?_ ” Alec asked as he carefully arranged Magnus’s hand on his shoulder. Magnus gripped him gently, but firmly.

“Sharing interests are important in relationships,” Magnus said.

Alec placed his hand on Magnus’s waist and stared at him dully. “This isn’t an interest of _mine_. My parents made me learn.” He took an annoyed sigh and looked around the room in a futile attempt to locate his sister. “Are you sure you want to learn from me? Isabelle is a good dancer.”

“Alexander, do I need to wait another century before I learn how to waltz?”

Alec shut his eyes and took Magnus’s free hand in his. “Okay. Fine. Just do what I do, but… backwards. Okay?”

Magnus’s eyes glinted, but Alec tried not to notice how their brilliant green flashed. “Got it.”

Alec waited patiently until the moment was right, then began counting. “One-two-three, one-two-three,” he muttered, more for his benefit than Magnus’s. Magnus stepped back as Alec did. He almost yanked himself out of Magnus’s grip until the warlock pulled him forward and their bodies crashed together.

“Magnus,” he groaned. They hadn’t fallen, thankfully, but they had caused enough chaos to turn several heads. A few couples even paused in their dance to watch.

“What? You said go backwards,” Magnus said innocently. Alec’s back was pressed to his front, his arms crossed as Magnus held him tightly. Magnus’s breath was hot and tickled the back of his neck.

“You know how to waltz, don’t you?” Alec accused under his breath.

Magnus let him untwist himself and twirled the Shadowhunter around. He grabbed Alec around the hips and tugged him into another embrace. “Of course.” He kissed Alec’s throat and Alec felt his lips smile against his skin. “But your failed attempt at teaching was too cute to miss.”

“I thought it was something like that.” Alec tilted Magnus’s head and kissed him on the lips softly, ignoring the flush that rushed to his cheeks when others turned to watch. He could feel a few stares, piercing and ripping into his confidence like a blade would into his skin.

Of course, maybe it wasn’t them that was attracting the stares (though Alec’s attempt to convince himself was weak). They _were_ in the middle of dance floor where people were attempting to actually _dance_. Alec figured that might be part of the animosity, so cut the kiss short. “Let’s either dance or go somewhere else,” he suggested quietly. He dearly hoped that Magnus would choose the latter.

No such luck. Magnus put his hands around Alec’s waist and dragged him closer. “Stand on my feet,” he said. “I’ll dance for both of us.”

Alec tried to squirm away, his cheeks hot, but Magnus’s grip was too strong. “I’m not a five year old girl,” he hissed under his breath, looking pointedly at the child doing the same exact thing with her father.

Magnus laughed. “Of course not. That would be pedophilia, and babe, I’m open minded as far as relationships go, but that is not on my resume, nor do I ever wish for it to be. Come on, please?” he pouted and Alec looked at their feet, lost for words.

“I’ll scuff up your shoes,” he excused as the song slowed to an end. “Can we just go sit down? Or… a hallway? Or something?”

“What? You don’t want to be on top of me?” Magnus pouted even further and leaned close. “Alexander, please?”

Alec rolled his eyes and gathered the front of Magnus’s tuxedo in his fists. “Maybe,” he whispered, hating that he was actually about to say this in public. Alec just didn’t _do_ this sort of thing. But, of course, he was sort of desperate to get off the dance floor and have his boyfriend. “I do want to be on top of you. Somewhere else. In a different way.”

The grin that curled Magnus’s mouth sent a chill up Alec’s arms. The warlock cupped Alec’s face in his smooth hands and suddenly, they were making out like horny teenagers in the middle of a dance floor filled with a bunch of Shadowhunters and important figures that had come for the event. Alec didn’t even notice that the music had come to a complete stop and that a majority of the party had gone to sit in their designated seats, because his boyfriend was kissing him, his gorgeous warlock boyfriend that he still didn’t understand how he had gained when he was a shy, awkward seventeen year old. He didn’t understand how he had managed to keep the man as a shy, awkward twenty four year old, either.

“Ahem,” Isabelle said from the small platform that was serving as a stage. The microphone amplified her voice and Alec broke away from Magnus, shocked out of his mood. He disentangled his hands from Magnus’s now messy hair and fixed his own. “If the best man could finish putting on his little show for everyone and come up here for his speech?”

The guests all laughed, Magnus included, but Alec felt his face burn. He glared at his sister, then at his parents, who were only encouraging her with their smiles and claps. They always had favored the little princess. He pushed Magnus towards their table, and crossed the dance floor. He could feel every eye on him.

He snatched the microphone away from Isabelle, who was grinning widely. “Thanks a lot,” he muttered.

Isabelle leaned in and hugged him. In his ear, she whispered. “Don’t be such a wet blanket, Alexander,” she chided. “It was adorable. Actually, and don’t hit me for this, but it was more than adorable. It was _hot_.”

Alec rolled his eyes and pushed her away. “Iz… Just… Let me get this over with.” He hated the customary best man’s speech. It had almost made him decline the offer. Of all mundane traditions that Shadowhunters had adopted it was that. The fact that he was forced to walk in with his sister, the maid of honor, and not his boyfriend, was the most unappealing part of the job. Standing in front of everyone, giving a speech about _Jace_ , of all people, was not considered an honor to him. Clary and Jace were being seated in the middle of the dance floor, both beaming.

“Um,” he said into the microphone, but a horrible screeching noise filled the room. Alec winced and held the microphone out further. He could see Magnus covering his ears. “Hi, everyone. You all, um, know who I am. I… uh… hold on.” He reached inside his inner pocket and withdrew the folded speech, typed neatly and double-spaced like things ought to be. “I’m going to keep this short, but bear with me for a few minutes. First, I want to congratulate Clary and Jace. It was a beautiful ceremony even though I was forced to stand in the sun the whole time and I had to threaten to punch Jace before if he didn’t stop pacing. Really. If she didn’t leave you years ago, she’s not leaving you at the altar.” There was laughter throughout the hall, but Alec only saw Jace rolling his eyes and kissing Clary on the cheek. “So, I’m supposed to give a little speech about how amazing Clary and Jace are and how lucky I am to have a new sister – and I am, really, I’m glad you’re part of the family now – and how happy I am for my parabatai. But the thing is, I don’t have that many fond memories. When I met Clary, we were thrown into the whole Valentine fiasco. I hated her for a while, but she hated me, and I was kind of an ass then, anyway.” He saw Clary laughing and nodding along, so he figured he was on a good roll. “But she’s a great girl. She’s a fantastic artist, a skilled runemaker, and my favorite thing about her is definitely the fact that she vetoed the polka dotted bowties for today.

 

“Jace… he isn’t the best brother I could ask for, and really, if he wasn’t leaving for his honeymoon tonight, I probably wouldn’t risk saying it. He’s… He’s Jace. He’s my brother. And I love him no matter how many times he shows me up in training or in battles or anything because I will _always_ be older and I will _always_ know more random trivia than him. Jace has embarrassed me loads of times, going from stupid thing like when we were forced to dance together for waltz lesson when I was fifteen and he made crude jokes the whole time to when he nearly let me – well, what happens at the bachelor’s party stays there.” Alec fought the burn on his cheeks. Never going drinking with Jace again. Ever. “But the thing is… that’s what brothers do. Make life tough for you. Help you grow a skin. Teach you how to dance even when you step on his feet. He’s there for me no matter what, even after I punched him when he suggested we tango next. Because seriously – _tango?_ Anyway, I know he’ll never let me down. Clary and Jace, congratulations. I’m honored to be part of this insanely special day. Izzy, you were a great wedding planner. Mom, Dad – I appreciated the permission to slap Jace in case of hyperventilation this morning, though I didn’t get a chance to use the free pass. Jocelyn, Luke, thank you for giving Clary and Jace your blessing and letting my brother be so happy. And finally – Jace, Clary, enjoy each other and your vacation in the countryside. Just don’t forget about all of us here fighting demons, all right?”

The room clapped, probably out of politeness, but Alec didn’t care. Clary and Jace were standing and hugging each other, the chairs were being taken away, and the dance floor was filling again as the orchestra started up. Alec replaced the microphone and started to fight his way through the crowd to Magnus. He fell into his seat,

“I’m going to kill you for that stunt before,” he threatened Magnus, but the warlock laughed to the ceiling.

“I love you, too,” he said and pulled Alec to his feet even though the boy had just sat down. “Besides, you started it. Come on, let’s go to the dance floor.”

“I’m not dancing,” Alec said outright this time.

“I won’t make you dance, I swear.” Magnus put his hand over his heart. “On my magic, I swear on my magic that I won’t make you dance. I just want to find Clary and Jace and I don’t feel like braving this horde without a Shadowhunter by my side.”

Alec frowned at him. “How much do you like your magic again?”

Magnus reached out to brush Alec’s hair out of his eyes. “Did I mention that I really need a sexy, dark haired, blue eyed Shadowhunter to help me fight off the mob?”

“Give in, dude,” Simon intoned from a few seats away. “Or he’ll dislocate your shoulder or something while he drags you.” Alec no longer found it jarring to see him at sixteen even years later. He gave him a look. “Your sister did it to me once,” Simon said and shrugged.

Alec relaxed his muscles and shrugged himself out of Magnus’s grip. “Okay. Fine. Find Clary and Jace and then I get to sit down, right?”

Magnus nodded once. “Of course.”

It wasn’t hard to find them. Clary was wearing a gold dress that fell to the floor. Black lace crossed over the bodice and there was just enough tulle so that the dress curved away from her body, but not too much to make her look like a giant poofball. Alec bit his tongue when he realized that he _knew_ words like tulle and bodice. It had taken years, but Magnus was finally drilling some fashion into his head. He decided not to tell the warlock – the triumphant grin would be too much to handle.

“Clary! Jace!” Magnus hugged them individually when they approached and the couple broke out of their dance. “Clary, you look gorgeous. And Jace – well, not the worst I’ve seen, of course.”

Clary flushed. “Thank you.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “If your boyfriend wasn’t here, you know you’d think I was the hottest thing on Earth.”

Magnus’s lips tightened into a straight line. “I don’t know how to tell this to you, Jace, but that’s all in your head.” He shook his head, as if he was trying to get the thought out of this mind. “Anyway. I was wondering if I could steal the bride for a dance?”

Clary looked at Jace, who shrugged and gently pushed her towards him. “If you want to, it’s fine with me. I’ll hang out with Alec.” He slung his arm around Alec’s shoulders.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Alec ducked out of his embrace. “I’m going to sit down, like I was going to _five minutes ago_.” He looked meaningfully at Magnus, but he was already waltzing away with Clary. Alec sighed. He knew that Magnus had been lying. The man was graceful and blithe as he integrated the two of them into the floor of dancing couples easily.

“Come on,” Jace urged and grabbed Alec’s hand. “For old time’s sake.” His golden eyes glinted and before Alec could protest, he had his other hand on Alec’s waist. “You do remember how to do this, right?”

Alec grit his teeth. “I hate dancing,” he muttered, but placed his hand on Jace’s shoulder. “I also hate following.”

“Sucks for you.” He pulled Alec into the mass. “It’s my wedding day. I lead.”

“You were a lot nicer last time, even with all the jokes.” Alec paused as he concentrated on getting into rhythm with Jace. _One-two-three, one-two-three_. “I did mean it, though. My speech, I mean.”

Jace smiled. “I know.” They danced for a few more silent seconds. “I liked it. Thank you.”

Alec shrugged, however hard it was with Jace gripping his shoulder so tightly. They were dancing close, but not too close, and this time, Alec didn’t feel his palms going clammy. It was awkward, but to Alec, any dancing was so. It was mostly friendly now. Not fun, but not horrible. “It’s your wedding day. You deserve it.”

Jace craned his neck to find Clary and Magnus in the crowd. They were being ostentatious. Magnus twirled her several times and then Clary fell into an unintentional dip, laughing hysterically all the while. “They’re having fun,” he commented. “You want to try?”

Alec pinched Jace’s shoulder as hard as he could. “No. I don’t love you that much.”

“If I was Magnus –”

“If you were Magnus, I wouldn’t have a choice.” Alec pulled Jace to the side of the dance floor and unclasped their hands. “I probably wouldn’t even realize it was happening.”

Jace laughed and pulled Alec back in for a hug. “You better be the next groom in the family,” he muttered.

Alec gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he pulled away. “Would you be annoyed if I told you that I already proposed?”

Jace’s face was comical. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “You didn’t tell me?”

Alec shrugged. “I didn’t want to overshadow your big day. We’re telling Mom and Dad when you and Clary get home. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I'm not ready to hear other people's reactions, cuz, well - yeah." He frowned and sighed, trying to grin again. He wanted to marry Magnus - there was no doubt there. It was that not everyone would want him to. "Not a big deal in the end. You’re the first to know.”

“I can’t tell Clary?”

“No,” Alec affirmed. “Just _no_. Nobody. Got it?” He messed up Jace’s hair for the hell of it – it was too flat and well combed, not at all like the messy haired brother that used to fall asleep on his shoulder.

Jace flattened it automatically. “I hate you.”

From somewhere in the crowd, Clary laughed again, Magnus’s quiet chuckle beneath hers. Jace smiled at the sound and Alec could help but grin along. He grabbed Jace again – this time, in the leading position – and dragged him into the crowd so that they were dancing beside their lovers.

“Yeah right,” he said once they had somewhat found the rhythm. His toes were throbbing, because Jace was evidently as bad at following as him, but he persisted on and even made Jace spin once or twice. “You could never hate me.”

He knew it was true. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


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